SUCCESS OF THE YEAR. 239 



After onr first taste I visited the garden hopefully 

 every morning, but was much surprised to find none 

 of the green berries become ripe. They disappeared 

 gradually, and I was greatly at a loss to understand 

 the reason. I knew that Gran was fond of straw 

 berries, but he was an honest dog. You might trust 

 him with untold strawberries, and he would not touch 

 one without permission. He might howl for them 

 until he would drive his master crazy, but, although 

 his howlings were ineffectual, he would not steal. 

 Sher was less trustworthy, but he did not like the 

 acid berries. The pigs could not get out, nor Cushy 

 get in ; so that the diminution was a mystery to me, 

 until, happening to rise one morning quite early, I 

 discovered our entire flock of chickens busy in the 

 strawberry-patch, and, driving them out, I noticed the. 

 remains of several fine ripe berries. This explained 

 the difficulty. There was no place where we could 

 cage the chickens ; in fact, as the berries were most 

 ly consumed, to do so would be rather late, and I had 

 nothing for it but to see my favorite fruit &quot; grow 

 small by degrees and beautifully less,&quot; amid the ear 

 ly &quot; clucks&quot; of delight that thereafter suggestively 

 broke in upon my morning slumbers, until the entire 

 plot was bare. 



From this adventure two deductions were to be 



